


Might As Well

by LadyIrina



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Bickering, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, M/M, first time all sorts of smutty things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2020-08-23 17:57:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20246947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyIrina/pseuds/LadyIrina
Summary: If you are going to be constantly accused of something, then you might as well be guilty of it?





	1. Chapter 1

It's late. They're alone. Steve probably should be heading home, but he just can't seem to quite get there. He's comfortable here, at Danny's place, in the sofa, Danny by his side, watching some stupid movie and sharing snarky comments about it and each other.  
“It's so stupid.” Steve remarks, putting his beer down on the table and leaning back, placing his arm around Danny just to annoy him and because he fits so perfectly into the embrace. “Why didn't he just shoot him?”

“Because,” Danny snipes, getting comfortable against him,“unlike you, most people use their brain before their gun.”  
Steve frowns. “I use my brain.”  
“That, in all of our years together, I have yet to see.”  
Sulking, though he would deny to his dying breath that is what he is doing, Steve falls quiet and Danny allows himself a small victory smile.

It doesn't take long before Steve makes a new comment and Danny fails to hold back a laugh aimed at the movie and not him, as the man actually has a point this time. The movie's main character has no idea how to hold a gun properly and in real life he would never have made that shot. 

Steve rewards Danny's laugh with a wide smile and a light pet on his neck, his fingers sliding through the soft and untamed hair at his nape, before his hand settles by Danny's shoulder again.  
And that's what triggers it. That right there. That.

A completely, somewhat, platonic touch. One in a million they have shared over the years.

Danny is an affectionate guy. He's not scared of acting on what he feels or talking about his feelings, that's Steve's deal, but even Danny seems to remember a time when he wouldn't be comfortable with another man being this tactile around him. And it is not merely Steve putting his hands on Danny. Not by a long shot. Danny knows he touches every bit as much in return.  
Somewhere along the insane ride that has been their partnership, it has become as natural as breathing.  
It's what makes so many people assume they are a couple.

Danny glances over and up at Steve's face. It's the same stupid face he's been looking at, screaming at, for years and years. He has fallen asleep to that face and woken up to it. Hell, he's even punched it, still feels like punching it at least 7-8 times a week. He likes the look of that face.

Steve finally notices that he's being stared at and looks over at Danny with a frown. “What?”  
  
“I'm just thinking...” Danny mumbles, leaving out that he's just realizing that he's so attuned to the other man that he'd recognize him by scent alone and isn't that just super freaky?  
  
“Well, don't hurt yourself.” Steve replies, somewhat wary. He doesn't like the scrutiny. It usually ends badly for him in some way or another. Danny tends to over-think things.

Which is when Danny leans up and kisses him.

Steve's brain stalls for a moment. He can't think, can only feel Danny's lips against his, the light scratch of a stubbly chin against his skin and the warm pressure. But when Danny eases up only to lean in for a second kiss, Steve finally reacts.  
Placing a hand to Danny's chest, Steve pushes him back with a look of utter surprise. “Whoa, whoa!” He shakes his head a little, wondering where the joke is in all of this, and there is a slightly high pitched tone to his voice. “What the hell?”

Danny frowns at him. “All these years, people have always assumed we're a couple.”  
Steve is officially worried that the man has finally gone and lost his mind. Danny has always warned him that Steve would drive him insane one day, but he hadn't thought he was actually serious about it! “Uh, yeah?”  
“All those years, all those dates I've missed out on because women thought I was dating you,” Danny can't believe he hasn't thought of this before, “I might as well get something out of it.”  
And that is when he pushes forward and kisses Steve again. 

It's pretty chaste as kisses go, but Danny is a little surprised at how... not horrible it feels. Ever since the day Steve had forced himself into his life, everything that involves Steve is usually annoying, frustrating, life-threatening and more often than not; flat out insane.  
But this? This feels... really uncomplicated.

Steve's brain has another time-out, this time allowing him to sense Danny's lips moving against his, urging him into this, and just as he is about to do the massive mistake of kissing him back; Steve pulls away, presses himself into the sofa. “Okay! Okay, easy there, Danno. I'm not sure what's gotten into you, but-”  
“Oh, so you can flirt and pretend to be my boyfriend, but you're too scared to actually do something about it?” Danny says, sitting up to face him properly, brimming with offense. He happens to be a damn fine catch. Women tells him so all the time. And he happens to agree with them.  
“What? No!” Steve snaps, relieved to find they're back on more familiar territory. “Scared? What are you talking about? I'm not scared!” 

Danny struggles against the urge to smile. Steve is most definitely scared. He looks like a cornered rabbit. God, it is so refreshing to see him like this. The man usually runs head first into the jaws of death without hesitation, but at least he has the good sense to be scared of Danny Williams. Cool.  
“Steve, just about everyone thinks we're sleeping together already.” Danny shrugs. “If we're going to be accused of it anyways, why not be guilty? We owe it to ourselves to at least try it.”

Steve opens his mouth to counter the argument, but he comes up short and closes it. He tries again.“It would change everything.” Steve doesn't like change that he hasn't authorized.  
Danny rolls his eyes. “What's going to change? Face it, man. We're doing everything together already. Fact. We're doing all the work of a relationship, we fight all the time, we make up, we're going to end up growing old together, unless you get us killed. We are just missing out on the sexy bits.”  
Steve snorts a laugh. “You're making it sound like I'm missing out on something great.”  
“Yes.” Danny grins. “Now, shut up.” And he leans in to kiss him once more.

Only this time, Steve is prepared. While it still feels strange, not bad, just a little strange, he finally answers to the gentle prompting of Danny's lips and gives him a tentative response. When had he become the cautious one in their relationship?

For a time, they sit like that, with more or less only their mouths touching, for several surprisingly innocent kisses. They test out how it feels and how to move to prevent bumping noses and hurting their necks. It doesn't take long for them to get the hang of it. They know how to move together.

It's a good start. But it is not enough.

Danny exhales, realizing that once again he is the one who has to take charge as Steve won't do anything stupid as long there isn't a gun or the promise of death involved. He moves up and straddles Steve's thighs, taking a firm hold of the collar on his shirt and swallows the surprised sound in a firm kiss.

Danny's heavy, he might be short but he's muscular and compact, and the feeling is like an awakening slap to Steve's libido. Steve finds his hands moving to Danny's hips and he has to stop himself from automatically pulling him closer to where he suddenly craves pressure. This isn't some random girl. This is Danny. He has no idea what is allowed or not. He just knows that the weight of him is enticing like hell.

Feeling Steve's fingers clutch at his hips and then hesitate, Danny almost rolls his eyes. Clearly it is time for the big guns.  
Danny takes a hold of Steve's jaw and digs his fingers into his skin, forcing a sound out of him as his lips part and it allows Danny to move in for a deep and filthy kiss.

Steve thought he'd be immune to surprises after Danny had climbed into his lap, but then his hot, wet tongue slides into his mouth like it has every right to and he is reminded that Danny will never ever stop surprising him. That's one of the many, many things he loves about this man. Danny is loyal, brave and clever, and never ever boring. Some people claim that Steve is to be admired for his fearless attitude, but he thinks that it's far more impressive for Danny to be afraid and do what needs to be done anyways. That's the definition of brave man, in Steve's book. Not that he'll ever tell him this. Danny already has a very healthy ego, thank you very much.  
Steve is still struggling to believe that this is happening, but then Danny tightens his grip on his jaw again and actually has the nerve to chuckle a little triumphantly into his mouth; and it is on! His pride bucks up. He never could say no to a challenge.

Suddenly Steve leans up into the kiss, giving every bit as good as he's getting, and Danny cannot congratulate himself enough on his brilliant idea.  
He keeps his grip on Steve's jaw, places his other hand behind his neck, holding him still, moving him how he wants him. Steve might be a nightmare to work with at times, but the rare times, like this, when he does take orders; he takes them so beautifully.

This could easily get addictive.

Ten seconds later, Danny feels the world shift and suddenly he lands on his back on the sofa with Steve hovering over him, holding his weight off him with his hands and knees, watching him with that sharp look in his eyes that usually warns of him about to do something stupid.

For a couple of heartbeats they just stare at each other. Kissing was one thing, kissing they could still go somewhat back from, pretend it was just a bad joke, a challenge gone too far, but this? This is moving into really dangerous territory. 

Danny licks his lips, keenly aware of his vulnerable position; on his back, unarmed, with a certifiable Navy Seal hovering between his thighs. It's something that would have made him pull the plug on the entire situation with anybody else, but the man above him is Steve and sanity tends to go flying out the window when Steve is involved. Fine. He'll try this too.

Danny still has a good grip on Steve's jaw and he uses it to slowly pull him down and into a kiss.  
It doesn't take long after that before Steve's well-trained frame also eases down and his weight settles on top of Danny in all the right places.  
Yeah, Danny realizes, feeling his blood heating up, yeah, they definitely should have done this years ago!

Steve knows Danny's body, over the years he knows how most of it feels under his hands and against his body, but this feels different. This has 'intent'.  
Especially when, in the middle of a kiss, Steve mindlessly rolls against that sturdy body under his to gain the upper hand and he breaks it to exhale a surprised groan. Oh. Oh, that felt good.

“What?” Danny asks, a little breathless, but with a teasing grin. “You haven't done this before?”  
Steve struggles to find his voice. “With a guy?” He slides his hand behind Danny's neck, takes a firm hold of his hair and pulls; wanting the gorgeous line of Danny's throat exposed. “Not with a guy, no.” And he drags his lips up the sensitive skin and bites lightly at his jawline.

Danny shudders, can't not, and his hips moves up to grind against Steve's without his conscious permission. “Me neither.”  
Which also makes some kind of weird sense.  
They were always meant for each other, after all.  
But it also poses a different problem; clearly none of them knows how to do this properly then.

“Stop thinking.” Steve mumbles against Danny's neck, rolling against him again, unable to stop now that he's started, and there is no mistaking how his dick is most definitely hard by now.

Shuddering, Danny closes his eyes for a moment, feeling how arousal is changing from low-key delight to greedy want. “I'm not... I'm not thinking. I'm just contemplating the fact that we might want to figure out what we're aiming for here. I mean, I know you always rush in without a plan, but in this particular instance I think we should decide on a goal.”  
Steve, the bastard, reaches down, without warning, the hand not behind Danny's neck, and cups Danny through his pants and squeezes just on the right side of pain. “Jesus, stop talking.”  
For a moment, Danny tenses up under the rough caress that is too good to be legal, but he quickly makes a valiant effort to regain his ability to speak, even if his voice is decidedly shaky. “No. Nono, we need... You are such an animal. We need a plan.”

“My plan,” Steve drawls against Danny's lips, “is to get you off. Easy peasy.”  
“Are you calling me easy?”  
“You called me cheap once.”  
“You are.”  
“And you are the one who climbed into my lap and shoved your tongue into my mouth, Danno.”  
“I changed my mind. I don't wanna do this. I'm going to shoot you instead.”

Unable to contain a soft laugh, Steve cups his face between his hands and drags him into a kiss that is just a new way of fighting for them now and he rolls his hips hard against Danny.  
Steve will never ever forget the half-choked whimper it brings from his partner, a sound Danny will never ever admit to making, or how it makes him mindlessly move his legs up so his thighs are now framing Steve's waist and holding him there.

Steve's hands roam down Danny's sides, feels that mighty chest heave for air, down further, clutches his hips and holds him still when he grinds against him again and hides his face to his neck as they soon move together in the most tantalizing rhythm.  
Danny's own hands trail down Steve's back, savoring the muscles moving under his shirt, he's like a finely tuned machine, and sneaks one hand under the fabric to feel the warm skin there, briefly touching one of the many scars he possesses. Danny also indulges himself by sinking his teeth into Steve's neck until he feels him shudder and groan a curse. Steve's skin tastes like salt and insanity and sex.

God, it's dangerously good, this. Steve is starting to see Danny's point more and more; every touch is just... right. Maybe it should be weird, tasting your partner's mouth, wanting more of that hardness straining against his pants, but because it is Danny; it feels good and right and perfect. Just like Danny himself.  
They are breathing hard now, Danny's hands are getting outright grabby, at one point he even takes a handful of Steve's ass and pulls; makes him push harder and, wow, isn't that an experience?  
Steve will forever deny the half-choked whimper that he makes.

It is combat reflexes that prevents Steve from smacking his head against the floor and being rendered unconscious when he's suddenly flipped off the sofa and ends up on said floor with a surprised grunt, and a dangerously smug ex-Jersey cop sitting on top of him.  
Damn that man and his strong legs. Danny is built like a boxer, has that powerful torso going, he packs a punch that could knock out a mule, but he's also freakishly strong in his legs. Ask any perp who has had the pleasure of being on the receiving end of one of Danny's kicks. Why is that so hot?

Danny sits up a little straighter, shifts his weight a little, finds his balance, getting comfortable, weirdly at ease with the hard on he is currently perched on, all with a triumphant smirk at the scowl Steve sends up his way. He waits for the exact moment when he sees Steve's eyes flash with that crazy light again, when he will pull some ninja move that Danny won't be able to dodge to gain the upper hand once more, that's when Danny makes his own move.

He circles and rolls his hips in a smooth motion, putting the exact, perfect pressure that has Steve smacking his head back against the floor after all.  
“Fuck...!” Steve gasps, his hands flying up to take a hold of Danny's hips.

Danny rolls his hips again, memorizing how Steve's mouth look like this; slack and helpless with lust, and he really wants to bite that neck again.  
“When...” Steve chokes out, having to close his eyes for a moment to gather himself before staring up at him. “When did you find the goddamn time to... to take courses in how to give a lap dance like a pro?”  
Danny's grin widens. “A man's gotta have some secrets.”  
Steve exhales a laugh, closes his eyes again and nods. He struggles to speak. “Keep doing that and I'm gonna end up finishing in my pants like some damn teenager, genius.”  
And suddenly that is the hottest thing Danny Williams has ever heard. Getting Steve, control freak, McGarret to break and come in his pants? Yeah, challenge accepted.

Steve knows he's just made a mistake saying that, because he can feel Danny starting to move with purpose. And while his brain screams for him to counter, to do something, to take back control, there is the minor problem that his dick is is quite happy with current events and overrules everything his mind comes up with.  
Steve whines an objection, there is still so much he wants to do; he hasn't even gotten his hands on Danny's skin. He wants to pull Danny's hair again. He wants to touch and taste more. He wants to feel nothing but skin between them. He wants to get his hands on that dick. He wants... He wants!  
But Danny keeps rolling his hips in that hypnotic rhythm, keeps that exquisite pressure on his dick, and at one point he puts his hands to Steve's chest and draws a thumb over where he can see a nipple pressing against the shirt fabric.

This is the kind of torture Steve cannot withstand.

He can feel it building up, can feel everything getting tight and tense. And it wouldn't be a defeat to let go, not exactly, because Danny is totally cheating. Cheating cheater that he is. Which is what Steve tells himself one second before a sharp, piercing pleasure shoots through him and then he's coming. Hard.

Danny is utterly mesmerized as he watches Steve arch under him with a guttural groan. Steve's fingers dig into his hips so tightly that Danny will be wearing bruises for the next days. He can even feel Steve's dick twitching as he comes and that shouldn't be so hot that he nearly loses his shit too, but it is. Steve's groan, how he bucks his hips up against Danny, the precious few seconds when he's not in control, Danny has never experienced anything like this. He realizes that this is probably what addicts feels. This kind of high, this addictive rush, this thing he can't wait to do again.

He keeps moving, keeps pushing Steve through it, wanting to prolong it for his own viewing pleasure as much as to show Steve he is the better guy in bed, or on the floor as the case is. He only slows down until he's still when he sees Steve give a slight flinch due to over-stimulation.

Steve's hands slides down from the hips to rest on Danny's thighs. He's still breathing hard, eyes closed as he's not ready to meet Danny's smugness just yet. Not while faint flutters of post-orgasmic bliss wrecks havoc with his effort to appear unfazed after what just happened. He can't believe he just fucking came in his pants. He hasn't done that in... more years than he cares to count.  
Steve eventually forces himself to open his eyes and sees Danny watching him with that smirk of his. It would be unbearable, if not for how Danny's skin is flushed, how the blue in his eyes barely visible as his pupils are dilated as hell, and he's sporting one serious hard-on.  
That means revenge is still within reach.

Steve licks his lips, sees Danny's gaze shoot up and lock on to the act, which makes it easy for him to reach out and slowly pull him down into a lazy kiss.

Danny feels wound up beyond belief, his entire body is rock hard, one part maybe even more so than the rest of him, and Steve's lips is a welcome distraction. The fact that leaning down like this sandwiches his dick between his and Steve's award-winning abs, giving him some much desired pressure on it, well, that's just a bonus. A very distracting bonus.  
So when Steve starts shifting his legs and his hands underneath Danny, Danny doesn't really register it as a threat before it is too late.

The ninja skills strikes and Danny feels his legs being pushed, shoved, kicked, whatever, out behind him, forcing him to stretch out on top of Steve and then Steve's long legs is somehow free to come up to frame Danny's hips instead of the other way around.  
And, just to be cruel, Danny is certain of it, the fucker actually wraps those strong legs around Danny, caging him in, trapping him, before he starts to move under him in the most amazing way.

All that surfing must have given Steve some ideas because he rolls and moves under Danny like the ocean, and Danny doesn't stand a chance. He can't even prevent Steve from cupping his face and drawing him into a lewd kiss.  
He's too wound up, too close to the edge, and Steve knows it. The stupid neanderthal. With that perfect body of his, solid and warm under him, beckoning him to just give in. This isn't fair!

Steve feels how Danny fights against it, how his muscles keep tensing up until they are shaking, until a drop of sweat trails down his face to kiss Steve's hand, and hell if his own dick doesn't make a valiant twitch at how goddamn gorgeous Danny is like this.  
“I hate you,” Danny gasps against Steve's mouth. “I hate you so much.”  
Steve laughs.

Danny comes with his hands clutching Steve's hips and he shudders, lost in momentary bliss, all bad things forgotten, all is well with the world, everything is perfect and good and amazing, and it goes on and on, until the rush of pleasure does ease up and he sinks back down to earth and Steve and the realization that his underwear is now both soggy and gross.  
“Seriously,” Danny pants softly against Steve's collarbone, too exhausted to care that his entire weight is now resting on the other man, “you are the worst.”

“This was your idea.” Steve replies, fascinated by how Danny's hair has started to escape its hair-product-prison. He absently lifts a hand and tucks a strand behind Danny's ear. 

The gesture feels nice, sweet, and it makes something tighten inside Danny's chest. He decides that this wasn't enough. He wants more.

Danny lifts his head to stare down at Steve with an unsettling amount of seriousness on his face. “You owe me a do-over.”  
“I what now?” Steve lowers his hand and stares at him.  
“If you hadn't started talking about coming in your pants and giving me the idea, we could have done this properly. In a bed. With a plan! So you can't decide whether or not we're going to do this on regular basis based on what happened here. You messed it up. You owe me a do-over.”

Steve has to laugh. It's so typically Danny. And the angry look on his face even more so. Steve quickly nods to calm the ruffled feathers and dares to place a hand on Danny's lower back to give him some soothing pats. The fabric is damp with sweat and Steve decides he most definitely needs to feel and taste Danny's skin, not just settle with this fully clothed, teenage rut. “Okay. A do-over.”

Danny nods decisively. “Good.” And allows himself another moment of resting his head on Steve's shoulder as their breathing calms and their bodies cool down. After a while, he makes a face. “I need a shower.”

Steve hums his agreement. Then Danny is suddenly sent rolling across the floor and flails in disbelief as Steve is racing towards the bathroom. 

“Steve!” Danny roars, scrambling to his feet. “This is my domicile and my shower! Touch that door and I will shoot you! Dammit, Steve! Shut that door and I WILL shoot you! Don't you dare... Steve! STEVE!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has now been ten days since The Incident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhm, yeah, so I ended up with two more parts. And a word of warning; the filth level increases by each chapter because of all the dang UST which has been brimming up over the years they have worked together!

Steve had showered, faced a furious Danny after, then more or less gotten unceremoniously kicked out of the house. At the time it had been hilarious.

It has now been ten days since The Incident. Steve likes to refer to it as The Incident, because calling it anything else could be dangerous. It would be trying to make sense out of why Danny suddenly decided to climb into his lap, ruin kissing with anybody else ever again for Steve and then make him come in his pants like he was some kid. The answer to that riddle could either be awesome or very, VERY bad. And while heartache is never fun, it is probably better to leave it alone in case the answer is bad, as he fears he might actually never recover from losing Danny.

What Steve 'will' recover from, is a knife to the thigh.

Since The Incident, everything has been like before, just like Danny said it would be, to Steve's relief and frustration, and that apparently includes minor work-related injuries.

After spending hours at the hospital, it is now late in the evening, Danny has Steve's arm across his shoulders and helps him make his way through the door to Steve's house. Anger is burning in his throat. “I told you not to go after him, didn't I?”  
Steve makes an effort to shrug. He hadn't really thought about it when he had chased the drug dealer he and Danny had spent the entire afternoon looking for. When something runs, Steve goes after it and brings it down. It is what he does. It's his nature.

“You were lucky it was a knife.” Danny grumbles, guiding him towards the bedroom. He doesn't care how many times he sees Steve hurt, he will never get used to it. His heart will never stop freezing with terror the second he sees Steve injured and bleeding.  
“Don't feel lucky.” Steve mutters, annoyed at himself that he didn't react quick enough to avoid the knife entirely, even if his reflexes prevented the guy from severing his artery. He ended up with stitches, pain killers and a dangerously pissed off partner instead.  
  
“Lucky I don't punch you in the face.”

At that moment, Steve wonders if the severed artery might have been the better option after all.

They make their way to Steve's bedroom where Danny helps him sit down on the bed and watches him with a critical eye. He doesn't like how pale Steve is, that there is still blood on him, that the idiot wouldn't let the doctors run off with his beloved cargo pants, merely had them cut them more open and stitch up the wound like that.  
Danny places his hands on his hips and makes a plan.  
Okay, first things first.

Steve is just about to lie back on the mattress and close his eyes, tired now that the adrenaline is leaving him, when he hears Danny say what he least expects to hear.  
  
“Take your pants off.”  
  
Steve blinks. The adrenaline is back. “What?” Did he hear that right?

Danny kneels down and starts pulling off Steve's shoes. “I know you have a deep, personal relationship with all of your beloved cargo pants, but these are all torn up and covered with blood. They're disgusting.” By the time he's gotten the shoes off, his idiotic partner hasn't moved at all, so Danny reaches out to open Steve's pants.

“Okay!” Steve snaps, doing it himself. He shimmies a little to get the pants down over his hips and has to grab a hold of the mattress to keep from flying off the bed as Danny yanks them down his legs and away. “Hey! Ow!”

“Shut up.” If he didn't like pain, Steve shouldn't run after knife wielding crazies without his partner as backup, almost getting himself killed. Again. Danny leans in to look at the bandage patch high up on Steve's inner thigh. According to the hospital, it wasn't too deep, the cut, and it hadn't required too many stitches. “No more bleeding. Good.” He reaches out and gently touches where the glue has come a little undone at the edge of the patch, smoothing it out and reattaching it to the skin.

Steve swallows hard.

Danny then stands up and makes a quick visit to the bathroom, grabs a washcloth, wets it under the tap and heads back into the bedroom. There's not an overabundance of blood, but he still wants it off Steve's skin.  
Crouching back down again, he starts cleaning the blood away, making sure to do a thorough job, despite an overly fidgety Steve and his constantly twitching thigh muscles, and Danny is almost done when the moron suddenly reaches out and tries to take the washcloth away.

“I can do it.” Steve declares with firm determination.  
“You could, but you won't.” Danny counters, and they have a brief tug of war.  
Steve wins, yanking it out of his hand and clutching it tight.

“You're like a baby! It's like dealing with a giant man-baby! Why are you acting like such a baby?” Danny has no patience for Steve's control issues after the scare he'd put him through earlier.  
Steve glares back at him, and quickly wipes away any final traces of blood. “There. Happy?”  
“Man-baby.” Danny states, leaning in to carefully press down the edge of the bandage patch again, only for Steve to flinch away from his touch like he has cooties. “Really? I mean, really?”  
Steve doesn't reply, merely keeps glaring.

Danny is one second away from a rant about the dangers of sepsis when he notices how dilated Steve's pupils are, how tensely clenched his jaw is and how very carefully he breathes.  
His gaze automatically shifts to Steve's underwear and sees the consequence of him more or less pawing at Steve's upper thigh for the last couple of minutes or so.  
“Oh...” He mumbles.

So, stuff like that happens. It's just one of the many joys of having a dick; like waking up with morning wood. It doesn't have to mean a thing. Physical stimuli.  
But then there is what that happened almost two weeks ago. That which had started with a touch to Danny's neck and ended up as a mess in their pants. Danny hasn't forgotten, not for one second, but in the following days, there was the thing with Grace. Then there was the thing with Steve's old almost-friend who needed help with a case. Then there was the Team Barbeque. Then there was the fire. And, of course, the thing with the swan. There really hadn't been time to...

Danny had wanted it done properly and according to his plan the second time around, during his do-over, but now common sense and something far more primitive are clashing in a mighty battle inside Danny's brain.  
“I didn't think...” He says, forcing his voice neutral. “I didn't think you'd be up for... that.” And because he's a born smart-ass, Danny adds a one-shoulder shrug while keeping his gaze on Steve's tenting underwear. “Although, I can see some parts of you are up.”

“Ha. Ha.” Steve grits out. “Very funny.” 

Danny acknowledges that fact with a nod, because he 'is' a funny guy when he wants to be, but then Steve shifts to move away and Danny's hand flies out, takes a hold of his knee and keeps him there.

Looking down at the hand, frowning annoyed, Steve then scowls up at him. Danny isn't even going to let him get away with a hint of dignity? But the anger quickly fizzles out when he sees the somewhat dazed look in his partner's eyes.  
There is no trace of the smug gloating he expected to see, but rather... interest.  
It doesn't help easing down Steve's hard-on at all. “Danny?”

“Shut up.” Danny says, a little absently. “I'm thinking...” He's trying to list all the reasons why they shouldn't do this, but he's struggling. Suddenly the room feels hot. His shirt collar is too tight.

Steve watches him, waits, tries to be patient, even as he has to dig his fingers into the mattress in an effort to act unfazed, but this is pure torture as the seconds tick by.  
For every breath he exhales, he can feel more blood being pumped down south and it makes things increasingly urgent.

Danny absently reminds himself of the fact that Steve 'is' injured so if they are doing this, he will have to keep the idiot from injuring himself further. Now, if only Danny could actually get his brain functioning beyond staring at Steve like he is the last donut at a cop convention... 

Eventually Steve can't stand it anymore.  
“Danny...” It's as close to asking nicely and meaning it as he will ever get.

Danny's eyes snap up to meet his, hears the unspoken 'please' and is completely incapable of resisting it. He licks his lips once, then shifts to settle on his knees and nods to himself. “Okay...” He can do this. “Okay...”  
  
“Okay...what? Exactly?” Steve forces himself to ask, because right now Danny is kneeling between Steve's knees and looks like he's about to do something that Steve has tried very hard to deny, even to himself, exists in his spank-bank.  
  
“I thought I'd sit down and meditate here.” Danny snaps, uncomfortably nervous. “What does it look like I'm doing?”

God, the thought alone is nearly enough to undo Steve. But, he has to point out a fact. “You said you hadn't done this before...”  
“I haven't.”  
Steve frowns. “Then... are you sure you wanna do this?” He's gonna bite his dick off, isn't he?  
  
Danny clears his throat, trying to decide how to proceed on his very first effort at a blow job. “I've done research. Don't worry.”

Steve's not proud to admit that it takes several seconds for those words to scramble around in his brain before he can actually process what it means. “You...” A laugh is bubbling in his throat. The idea is as hilarious as it is disturbingly hot. “You've been watching gay porn?”  
  
Danny glares up at him. “I thought at least one of us should know what he's doing!” And he has learned several things. One, he got it confirmed that he's not into dick in general, just Steve, who happens to both have one and be one. Two, there are certain techniques that is guaranteed to leave Danny the undisputed winner of this round!  
  
Steve flops back on the mattress, laughing out loud, with far too much glee for Danny's liking, even if his laugh is as pretty as Steve McGarret himself. “Was that why you were late on Friday??”

Letting anger fuel his actions, Danny takes a hold and yanks down Steve's underwear to have a look at what he has to deal with while ignoring its owner. It's not the first time he's seeing Steve's dick, they have been partners and friends for too long for every day life to allow that, but it is the first time he gets to see it like this; ready for action.  
Huh. Okay. Not bad.  
But Danny is quickly snapped back to his annoyed self when he realizes that Steve isn't laughing anymore. No, the man, the fearless soldier, is now, honest to God, _giggling_. Giggling!

Danny's eyes narrows, his carefully laid plan ends up flying out the window, and he just goes for it.  
He feels no small amount of satisfaction as Steve's amusement abruptly turns into a shocked gasp.

This time Steve's brain doesn't stall. It goes full nuclear explosion.  
The knowledge that this is Danny, the warm and wet heat, it's just too much to handle.  
Steve's hands flail for a second then grab a frantic hold of the bed sheets and forces himself not to buck up into Danny's mouth, even though his entire body is desperate for it. He actually feels a flicker of gratitude when Danny's hands takes a hold of Steve's hips and holds him down.  
“Oh, fu...!” He can't even get out a curse word, has to close his eyes and clench his jaw hard against the pathetic whine he can feel coming on. Jesus, how can he become such a mess so fast?

The answer is of course; Danny Williams.  
Danny does this like he does everything; with fierce determination, dedication and spite.  
Maybe it's not the most elegant or complicated blow job Steve's ever had, but he's too fucking gone to notice. He's on the verge of coming already! But it's not his fault, it's Danny's! He can't just... With no warning! And with that mouth... And then do _that_...! Steve's only human, after all!

Breathing hard, clutching at the sheets like his life depends on it, using will-power he hasn't needed to excavate since his capture in Afghanistan, Steve manages to hold on for a little while. It feels like his entire body is drowning in too much pleasure, but he manages to hold on, somehow, until he does the massive mistake of lifting his head and glancing down to make sure he isn't dreaming.  
That sight, the reality of it all, becomes too much.

Danny is one hundred percent focused on what he's doing, trying to tell himself that this is all about showing Steve who is the most skilled of them and not that every sound Steve makes and his every desperate twitch is the hottest thing ever, so he is a little confused when Steve reaches down and bats his fingers lightly at him, trying to gasp out his name.  
“Danny, I'm...” He warns.  
  
Finally catching on, Danny withdraws, he might not be ready for that stage yet, and using his hand to finish the job allows him to enjoy the sight of Steve falling apart as he comes.

And fuck if that isn't the most gorgeous thing Danny has ever seen...  
He can't take his eyes off him, his arching body and the beautiful mouth, knows he will dream about this, doubts anything will compare, even forgets about his own screaming body for a moment. 

Steve can't breathe, can't think, can't anything other than trying to survive as wave after wave crashes over him. So it is to his surprise that he is hit by a new hunger before the waves have come to a complete stop, before he's even had time to reboot his brain or caught his breath.  
He _needs_ to touch Danny's skin.

“Get up here.” Steve pants, pawing at him, tugging. “Take your shirt off.”  
“Why?” Danny slowly moves up, climbs to hover over him on his hands and knees on the bed, trying to avoid getting any pressure on Steve's injury.  
“Why?” Steve scoffs. “Because I'm fucking cold and need your pelt to warm me up. Why do you think?”  
“I think you're an idiot. That's what I think.”  
“Just... take it off.” Steve orders. He tries to help him, none too gently, too impatient to care.

“Alright, okay, calm down!” Danny pulls his shirt off before the man ruins it, but his annoyance fades at the eager look in Steve's eyes as he takes in the sight and how his hands instantly goes to touch and claim in a strangely gentle greed. Danny knows he's good looking, so why does he feel so endlessly flattered? Why does he feel the need to arch into that touch like a damn cat?

Steve moves one hand up to slide it behind Danny's neck and urges him down on top of him and into a kiss, groaning content when his wish is granted after Danny makes him move his injured leg out of the way. He knows some guys wrinkle their nose at kissing their girlfriends after a blow job, but he's always found it kinda hot to find his presence on the other person. And right now he wants to own Danny more than anything else he's ever wanted in his entire life. All of him.  
“Why are you still wearing your shirt?” Danny eventually asks when Steve's lips move over to Danny's neck. “Take it off. I want, ngh...” He chokes the second Steve manages to open Danny's pants, get a hand inside and wrap his fingers around him.

“If I'd known this was a way to finally shut you up, I would have done this years ago.” Steve breathes a laugh against Danny's neck, deciding he likes the feel of him in his hand. Definitely.  
“Fuck... you...” Danny groans, bucking into his grip. “Just... don't stop, you moron.”  
“Whatever you say, Danno.” Steve grins, reveling in being back in control.

At first Danny tries to make it last, refusing to be made fun of for being a minute man considering how he didn't last long during the previous round either, but then a frustrated voice at the back of his head points out that Steve didn't really last long either so could he _please_ just let go now?  
God, it feels so good when he does.

Steve hears the hitch in Danny's breathing half a second before he comes, feels it like a dip in a roller coaster, and shivers every bit as hard as the other man during his release.  
And when there is this tiniest broken sound from Danny's lips, so close to Steve's ear, he realizes that he is definitely getting addicted to this!

Finally easing down, Danny allows himself a few seconds of just breathing and remembering how his limbs work before he rolls over, away from Steve's injured leg, and lies next to him, staring up at the ceiling before glancing over him.  
Steve has his eyes closed, looks blissed out of his mind, actually relaxed for once.

The moment is then ruined by reality. Danny makes a face at the mess they've made.  
Sighing, he sits up and pats a hand lightly on Steve's flat stomach. “Hey. Get up.”

“Don't think I can.” He replies, not opening his eyes, lifting his eyebrows. “Not this fast. I don't mind a round two, but I'm not sixteen, Danny. You gotta give me a minute.”  
“You are really not as funny as you think you are, you know that?” Danny pats his stomach a little harder. “Bathroom. Now. Go get cleaned up and I'll deal with the mess here. Go.”  
“Haven't you ever heard of enjoying the moment?” Steve loves Danny, he really does, but the man still hasn't learned to relax after all these years. “Afterglow? Cuddling?”  
Now Danny outright smacks his belly, making him sit up by an instinctive need to protect his innards, unfazed by the glare he gets. “Bathroom. Go.”

Muttering, Steve does as ordered. He gets cleaned up, takes a couple of pain killers the hospital had given him for his leg and tries not to think too much about how nervous he is about what happens next. By the time he gets back, Danny has somehow managed to get dressed and changed the sheets on the bed. Blinking surprised, he stops in the doorway.  
Danny sees him there and waves him over. “Come on, super-soldier. Bed time. You need to rest. Doctor's orders, remember?”  
“I remember.” Steve limps over to the bed and sits down on it. He sees that Danny has even managed to smooth back those few strands of his gelled-back hair which had made a break for it earlier and looks ready to make his own escape. Steve realizes he doesn't want him to leave.

He knows Danny only has an empty house to go back to this week and as luck would have it; they work at the same place at the same hours, so what Steve has on his mind would only be practical, right? Danny likes practical stuff.  
Steve climbs into bed, gets comfortable and watches Danny stuff the laundry into the designated basket.

“Okay, buddy, try to get some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?” Danny says, rolling up Steve's ruined cargo pants into a ball with a look of sadistic glee at the thought of throwing them away.  
Steve flings out his suggestion before he can chicken out. “You could... stay?”  
“What?” Danny looks up from his prey.  
Steve shrugs. “Stay. Here.”

Danny eyes him, scanning to see if he is being serious, and then eyes the bed, considers, before straightening his spine and sticking out his chin, warning him; “I'm not going to be the little spoon.”  
Steve grins. “No problem.”  
“I'm serious.”  
“So am I, Danny. Come here and wrap me up in those hairy, manly arms of yours.”  
“I'm going to wrap my hands around your neck, is what I'm gonna do.”  
“Get over here.” Steve doesn't tell him how he usually can't sleep with anyone behind his back, because this is Danny and that changes everything. He trusts Danny.

Danny eyes him for a few seconds longer, still trying to decide, he even sucks in his upper lip in his usual thinking pose, but he ends up giving in. It's too tempting.  
Steve watches as Danny strips down to his underwear, wishing he indeed had the recovery time of a sixteen year old, but quickly forgets about carnal wants when his partner slides under the sheets and, after a moment of hesitation, scoots closer and curls up behind the back then offered to him.  
Any other situation, Steve might have found the heavy arm settling around him restrictive, the heat radiating from the body against his back too much, the stubble against his shoulder weird, but as Steve suspected; with Danny it makes sense. Steve even inches a little closer back against him.  
Also, Steve spends most of his life trying to save other people. For once, and he'd die before admitting this out loud, it is kinda... nice to feel sheltered. He might not be ready to give up the driver's seat, but they could most definitely do this again. And, extra bonus, as Steve has his back towards him, Danny can't see the stupid smile Steve knows is on his face and thus Danny can't make fun of him for it. Yeah, this is good.

While Danny, struggling to believe this is really happening, has a moment of his own where he gets to luxuriate in the knowledge that Steve is at least safe from harm as long as he is in his arms. Tomorrow he might go out and get himself blown up, shot or stabbed again, but tonight Danny is going to keep Steve safe. He's actually going to be able to sleep without worrying.  
The feeling of utter contentment and Steve molding himself to fit against Danny to perfection, it makes that something inside Danny's chest tighten up again and he decides that, no, this cannot be a one time thing. But how can he ensure that it will happen again? Trying to talk to Steve about this, about feelings, is bound to send the schmuck diving in front of plane to avoid the conversation.

“You still owe me a do-over, you know?” Danny declares.  
“Really? How's that?”  
“The do-over was to do this properly. Properly! As you're injured, again, which complicates things, that means you still owe me a do-over.”

“Ah.” Steve nods as if it makes all the sense in the world. “Okay. Yeah. I can see that. Sure.”  
“Good.” Danny replies curtly.  
“Can we sleep now?”  
“You're the one still talking.”  
“You started it.”  
“I will grab this pillow and smother you. How's that?”  
“How about you smother yourself and then I would finally get some silence?”  
“I hate you.”  
“Good night, Danno.”  
“Good night, Steve.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, don't shoot me, I can explain! Turns out, chapter 3 just grew too big! So, yeah, I'm going to cut it into two chapters instead. Chapter 4 is almost done, but enjoy this little interlude before we get down and dirty.

Waking up, Steve is lying on his back, alone, and has a moment where he think the previous evening was nothing but a dream, but then he becomes aware of his hip pressing against something and he glances over and finds himself looking at Danny's back.  
Not a dream then. Relief floods his system.

Danny has clearly rolled over in his sleep, but there is no mistaking that familiar back, the crazy fluff of blonde hair and not to mention that lovely butt Steve's hip is currently making friends with. For a second, Steve wants more physical contact to such a degree that he's half-tempted to move over and snuggle the life out of the other man! He just wants to squeeze Danny like a teddy-bear. His Boo Boo. But, he doesn't want to risk getting kicked out of the house again, knowing Danny won't care that Steve's name is on the deed for this particular building.

He compromises by rolling over to face that broad back and trails lingering fingers down Danny's right shoulder blade, dangerously tempted to place his lips to the skin.  
It brings a faint grunt from Danny, a sigh, then a slurred; “What time is it?”  
Steve doesn't have to look at the clock, as he knows his body is set on a regular time schedule. “Zero five hundred hours.”

Silence, then a sleepy but deadly serious reply. “Touch me again and I'll slice the tires on your car.”

Steve can't help grinning, even more tempted to touch simply to see that furious morning face, but he is an adrenaline junkie, not stupid, so he leaves the angry bundle alone. For now.  
Getting out of bed, limping out to the bathroom, Steve gets ready for his morning work-out, while Danny buries his face into his pillow and feels nothing but pity for Steve as something horrible must have been done to him to make him think that getting up at 5 AM to exercise is a good idea.

Steve can't go swimming or running due to his injured leg, but he takes his time working on his arms and torso and enjoys the quiet of the morning.

It's close to 7.30 and Steve's in the middle of making breakfast, pouring coffee into mugs, when Danny finally emerges, still tired, but at least the shower had woken him somewhat up and now he just wants coffee.  
Steve proves that he has at least one working brain cell as he hands him a cup without a word.  
Shuffling over to the table, Danny sits down and starts sipping, while the Prodigy SEAL continues making what he hopes is breakfast.

When Steve places the breakfast plate in front of Danny and his analytical gaze, he barely hears the long suffering sigh of a food critic as he is too distracted by Danny's hair. He loves it like this; barely tamed by water. There are none of Danny's usual hair products in Steve's bathroom, Steve scoffs in the face of hair products, and now the blonde locks are just waiting for an opportune moment to turn to anarchy. He can see it curling a little already and just wants to bury his fingers in it, grab a hold and tug Danny's head back to show him the lovely curve of his throat that just about orders Steve to lean in for a taste, and hasn't Steve always been a good soldier?

“Earth to Steve? Come in, Steve?” Danny waves a fork in his face.  
Steve blinks, wills himself to focus but with lukewarm success. “What?”  
“I said, we can't be late because we gotta drop by my house so I can get some fresh clothes.”

“Uh huh, yeah.” Steve replies, still distracted. He gets up and goes over to refill his own coffee cup even though he's barely taken two gulps from it. “Or you could just borrow some of mine.”  
Danny snorts a laugh into his coffee. “Me in cargo pants? No thanks. I'd rather go naked, you bozo.”  
Either option sounds dangerously appealing to Steve. He forces himself to face him again and plasters on a smile. “Fine. Two minutes. Then we roll out.”

Danny gives an acknowledging grunt, then shovels more food into his mouth, knowing how important it is to start the day with a good amount of breakfast as only heaven knows what Steve will expose him to throughout the day, some which will quite possibly rob him off his appetite.

And speaking of Steve; he's definitely acting weird. All tense. Answering with minimal amount of words. But if he thinks he can squirrel his way out of the do-over, he's very much mistaken!

The drive to Danny's house is mostly Danny talking and Steve staring at the road so Danny is a little surprised when Steve insists on joining him when he heads indoors to change his clothes. He is then more than a little surprised when, as soon as the front door closes behind them, Steve spins around, cups Danny's face, backs him up against said door and stoops down to kiss him like there is no tomorrow.

At first Danny tenses up with a startled sound at the contact, his fight or flight reflexes kicking in as lips claims his, but this is Steve and Steve's lips, which means Danny's body automatically relaxes, without his permission, and by then he knows there is no point in arguing. He reaches up and takes a hold of Steve's face and gives as good as he gets. And it's so frustratingly good!  
Steve's stubbles are going to give him a damn beard burn, Steve's fingers are now trailing through and tugging at his hair, messing it up beyond belief, and yet it takes several minutes before Danny can make himself push Steve back enough to break the kiss.

“Stand down, Lieutenant Commander.” Danny's voice is far from steady and authoritative, sounds more husky and hungry, dammit. He licks his lips, tries to ignore how Steve watches the move with rapt attention, and tries to remember why this isn't a good idea right now. “We got to get to work, remember?” Steve was the one who had insisted he didn't need any sick-leave after getting stabbed.  
  
“One more, babe.” Steve mumbles, he honestly couldn't care less about work right now, and leans down again. “Just one more...”

Danny knows he should say no, they're going to be late unless they hurry, but then Steve is kissing him and... Just one more, then... No harm in that, right? Just one more...

They end up making out like horny teenagers against the front door, yeah forget about 'just one more', Danny is startled when he realizes that almost fifteen minutes has now passed since they arrived there. Shoving Steve unceremoniously away, Danny rushes to his closet and has to change clothes like the damn house is on fire. He also has to spend ages in the bathroom trying to tame his hair again, which Steve has managed to turn into complete chaos.(The idiot appears quite proud over said achievement, probably due to some kind of twisted caveman logic.)  
Standing in front of the mirror, fixing his hair, Danny then has a moment of pure horror when he notices that their latest make-out session has left him with a prominent hickey on his neck. 

**“What is wrong with you?!”** He yells, prodding at the mark while Steve merely grins. It is fortunately situated low enough on his neck so the shirt collar will cover it, but it proves that his partner really has the mental attitude of a fifteen year old. Seriously, Danny hasn't had a hickey since his school days! “I can't believe you did that!”

They end up being late for work. Steve walks into the station, all smiles and disgustingly cheerful. Danny stalks after him, glaring death threats at anyone who dares to glance his way. He hates being late for work.

It also doesn't help that Danny has to go through the entire day with low-key arousal burning in his gut, which constantly flares up at stupid moments. Like when Steve stares at Danny's forearms like he wants to taste them or when Danny himself can't stop noticing the hint of collarbone he can see by the neckline of Steve's shirt.  
It's torture.

They have been working side by side for years and suddenly now everything about Steve turns him on? Danny has always been able to acknowledge that Steve is a handsome man, Danny's not blind after all, but now he just wants to place his hands and mouth all over him. All the time.  
This isn't just torture, this is ridiculous!  
And it's Steve's fault! Somehow. Danny's sure of it.

Steve sees Danny fuming and struggles not to smile. Even if Danny might not be as into this as Steve is, bitter experience from previous relationships has taught Steve that he is usually the one who gets in the deepest, at least he can see his partner isn't all casual about it. He'll take Danny's anger over indifference any day.

People wonder some times why he puts up with Danny's griping, but he doubts he could make them understand. 

Growing up, his family loved Steve in their own way, but everyone back then knew that Steve was a tough one, a survivor, that he would always be okay. So while his family did care for him, they never worried about him. His current friends cares about Steve, they do, he knows they do, really and truly, but they don't worry too much as they know he can handle himself.

Danny worries about Steve all the damn time. Even when it is not necessary, even when it **does** annoy Steve, he still feels something clench tight inside his chest whenever he looks into Danny's eyes and see the blue there brimming with worry. Danny always worries and for some reason that makes Steve want to die for him.

It looks to be a day without any life threatening emergencies. They work their regular cases, most done separate of each other, and it could have been like any other boring day if not for the way their gazes some times slide over to the other and linger there far longer than they should.  
Steve's hope of quitting early, maybe dragging Danny along for some food and beer, is shattered when this small group of people swarm the station and informs him that the governor had green lighted a small fund raiser on short notice and they were there to pick up Danny to be their representative for the rest of the day. 

Danny hesitates, having received no warning and being completely unprepared for any grand speeches, but they explain that because of McGarret being injured the responsibility falls on him and he agrees to the task with a faint sigh. Just one more thing he has to suffer through because Steve dives into danger without thinking first.  
And speaking of Steve, he does NOT look happy when Danny leaves with them, and that at least makes Danny feel a little better about it. Good. Let him suffer too!

It's late, really late, when Danny finally returns home. He's tired, having spent hours and hours of being the smiling, sane part of Steve's team, convincing rich people with his presence that they should support the governor because that meant skilled people like him were on the job. Now he just wants to go to bed, sleep for two weeks, but first he calls Steve and gives his report.

Steve is awake, of course he is, and picks up the second he sees Danny's name lighting up on his phone. Danny sounds exhausted, so they keep the conversation to a minimum before they hang up so Danny can turn in. And knowing that his partner is home safe, Steve knows he'll be able to sleep too.  
He sleeps, but he wakes up feeling unsatisfied. Tense. Itching with a craving.  
Getting his hands on Danny had clearly been like opening Pandora's box. Steve can't shove the feelings and the want he'd stored away back in there once the box had been opened, and now he just wants more... This could be a problem.

When Danny arrives at the station the next day, he sees Steve's car already there and automatically glances over at his office once inside the building. He sees the familiar dark haired mop as the man is hunched over some papers on his desk and there is obvious tension in his shoulders.  
Danny's worry-meter beeps and instantly shifts up from safe green to a wary yellow. He steps into Steve's office and isn't reassured by the look on Steve's face as he glances up at him. He definitely looks like something is bothering him. The worry-meter jumps up to the stomach-ache orange. “What's wrong?”

Steve leans back in his chair and looks confused. “Is there something wrong?”  
Walking over to hover next to him, Danny crosses his arms and studies him intently. “You have that look. That 'something is wrong'-look.”  
Steve honestly has no idea how to reply to that. He can't admit to the reason why he's brooding, no way, not under the threat of torture, but he also knows Danny won't buy his bullshit if he tries to lie his way out of this.  
Danny's eyes narrow.  
Steve awkwardly decides the door to his office is the most interesting thing to look at in the entire world. He shifts uncomfortably in his chair.

Danny's worry-meter drops back to green and his smugness goes sky-high instead as he puts the pieces together. Placing one hand on the desk, Danny clears his throat before leaning down and moving in to ask, softly, dangerously close to Steve's ear; “Did you miss me?”  
Steve clenches his jaw hard, doesn't move, other than to shift his gaze to glare over and up at him. It's a question they've often asked each other, an on-going joke, but things are different now.

A thrill runs down Danny's spine and he can't help a triumphant smile. He's being cruel, he knows, as he places his free hand on Steve's tense neck and gently rubs his thumb over the skin, but it is only fair considering how much Steve puts him through on a daily basis. “It's okay, baby. I missed you too.”

Steve stands up, abruptly, and has to clench his hands into tight fists to keep from doing something stupid. His nostrils are flaring. He honestly can't decide whether he wants to punch Danny or kiss him at that moment, but then Danny's smile turns into that laugh he loves so much, and suddenly there is no doubt as to what he craves. “Come.”  
  
Danny is surprised to find himself ushered out of the office and more or less pushed down the hallway. “Hey! Easy with the hands, you thug! Where are we going?”  
“To have a talk.”

“We were talking. In your office. Did you forget? Oh, all the hits you've taken to the head are finally catching up to you, aren't they? I always knew they would. I tried to warn you, remember? And if... Wait, where exactly are we going? What? Are you serious? The storage room? Why the storage room? Have you lost your sense of direction too?”  
Steve shoves him into the storage room, follows and kisses him before the door even has the chance to close behind them.

Danny actually cackles a little into the first kiss, but then Steve's arm goes around his waist and he's yanked against Steve's body and he isn't laughing anymore. This is a body he knows well, even more so over these last two weeks, which means he can easily feel how incredibly wound up it is. Steve is tense to the verge of snapping. Why is that so hot? Danny must have gotten brain damage too over the years he's been working with this lunatic. Steve's level of insanity was bound to rub off on him eventually.  
  
Danny responds by shoving Steve against the nearest wall and crowds up against him, breathing a little shakily against his lips. “Missed me that much, huh? I don't blame you.”

“I'm calling in the do-over.” Steve mumbles, his hands taking a hold of Danny's upper arms.  
“What?”  
“The do-over. Tonight.”  
“You... You can't call in the do-over! It's **my** do-over, you jackass! My do-over, I get to call it in, not you. That's how the rule of do-over works.”  
“Fine, then you're calling it in. Tonight.”  
“What? No. That's not how it works either! You can't call it in on my behalf. God, you are such a moron! Have you no concept of rules and regulations outside of your precious Navy? There are certain rules in our society that must be obeyed, even by lunatics like you, or there will be complete anarchy, and the rule of Do-Over and the rule of Dibs are such. Have some respect, you animal.”

Steve lets his fingers dig into Danny's muscles to underline the urgency, brushes his lips by his neck and barely resists the urge to bite hard; because Danny is tormenting him right now. “Call it.” Steve draws a shaky breath and decides to sacrifice his pride. “Please?”  
  
Danny swallows. Shivers. Knows he shouldn't. But... “Tonight. My house.”  
  
Relieved, Steve closes his eyes for a second, needing a moment to collect himself to loosen his grip on Danny instead of starting things up right where they are standing. “Tonight. Your house.” He confirms, then forces his fingers to let go and straightens up to slide away.

He doesn't get far.

Danny grabs his face, pulls him down and gives him a hard kiss. Steve is just getting into it when Danny then pushes him away.  
“Go.” Danny mutters.  
Steve can't really talk. He just nods, croaks; “Tonight.” then turns on his heel, yanks the door open and marches out of the room.

Danny groans, turns and thumps his head hard back against the wall, closing his eyes and counting down from one hundred in hopes of cooling down his body.

Tonight...


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut. I wish I could say this chapter had any decent content, but it is basically just smut.

It's later than Danny expected when he hears Steve's car pull up into his driveway. He had half-expected Steve to be waiting on his doorstep once he came home from work, but that was hours ago and he hasn't heard a word since, nor seen hide or hair of him.  
Danny's even had time to eat, shower and talk to his kids on the phone before the door opens and slams shut and Steve marches inside the house like he too lives there. 

Danny feels his stomach do a flip at the sight of the man striding towards him and he instantly goes on the defensive to act like that just didn't happen. “You're late.”  
“Sorry.” Steve says, but doesn't sound very repentant. He sounds a looks like a man on a mission.  
Danny draws a breath to throw a sour remark, but by then Steve is standing in front of him, has his hands on him, and he is suddenly in the middle of a very demanding kiss.  
Danny decides that yelling at Steve can wait.

Steve has been thinking about this all day. While Danny has always been a pleasant thing to rest his eyes upon, Steve has found himself looking at him with intent since the Incident and now he's so impatient to get his hands on him that he's on the verge of shooting someone or something. 

Danny is made to back up as Steve pushes hard against him, is kept backing up until they bump into the kitchen counter, then he makes a surprised sound when Steve bends down, places his hands behind Danny's thighs and easily hoists him up to sit on the counter. He's standing between Danny's thighs and is back to kissing him before Danny can catch his breath to complain.  
Fine. Whatever. Danny will get back at him later. Right now it feels too good. Especially when Steve's hands make their way under his shirt and keeps roaming over his skin like they can't quite decide on where they want to settle.

Steve lands countless breathless and open-mouthed kisses on Danny's lips and his skin. “I want to fuck you.” He declares in a quiet and intense voice.  
Danny almost rolls his eyes. “Why am I not surprised?”  
“And then,” Steve continues as if Danny had not said anything, “I **really** want you to fuck me.”

Now 'that' causes a stab of lust to go through Danny and he lets out a brief, faint laugh. Of course Steve has to go first, and then he dangles bait that is guaranteed to catch Danny's interest and manipulates him into agreeing. The control freak strikes again.   
But, the sensation of Steve's muscular body now trapped between Danny's thighs and pressing against him with a hard promise, that combined with the prospect of getting Steve to hand over the control while Danny does his very best to fuck some sense into him, Danny kinda feels like there is no way to lose here. Unless Steve is completely horrible at man sex, which Danny rather doubts because the idiot is usually extremely skilled at everything except his own safety.  
Steve's hands tugs Danny closer, groans softly at the feeling and Danny gives in.

“Okay...” Danny says, shutting his eyes briefly as Steve mouths at his neck, probably giving him a new hickey, the neanderthal.  
“Okay?” Steve asks.  
“Okay.” Danny confirms, then tries to push him away. “Bedroom.”  
“Why?” The man-baby whines, sliding his hands up Danny's back and leans against Danny's effort.  
“Because we're not messing up my kitchen.” Danny snaps, annoyed at how his hips rolls to meet Steve's when he urges him to do exactly that. “And if we're doing this, we're doing it properly remember? And that does not include cooking oil.”

The lewd grin appearing on Steve's face is enough for Danny to actually shove him away and jump down on his feet again. He gets to take three steps, then the Navy Squid is attached to his back and neck, wrapping himself around him, making it unnecessarily difficult to get to the damn bedroom and Danny's shirt never makes it at all.  
It should probably be unsettling, having this lumbering wall of muscles that close to him, especially that which Danny can feel very prominently pressing against his lower back, but this is Steve and that makes it all kinds of hot.

Even when they come to a stand still in front of the bed, Steve can't make himself stop. He can't stop mouthing at Danny's skin, sliding his hands over Danny's brawny torso, noting down his every uneven breath and twitch as victories, gleefully developing and nurturing a new kink towards doing unseemly things to handsome men called Danny Williams.  
Steve never wanted a submissive partner. He loves that Danny challenges him, keeps up with him, is every bit as strong-willed as Steve himself. From that very first punch, from the second Danny's fist connected so very painfully with Steve's face, Steve had gone from pragmatic to intrigued.  
Once he learned of Danny's loyalty and kind heart, 'intrigued' got 'craving' to keep it company.  
Then Danny had actually included Steve into his family, making Steve a part of their lives as well as Danny's own, and Steve had been brought crashing to his knees.  
These thoughts makes him hold on so tightly that Danny now actually has to use his lovely muscles to be able to twist around and face him in his embrace.

“Such a control freak.” Danny mutters, but it is with a slight smile, and he quickly rids Steve off his shirt as well, running his hands down Steve's chest with a satisfied sigh. “Okay, so we gotta make sure you don't pull any stitches. What do you...” 

The rest of his words disappear into Steve's mouth as he leans in for another kiss and then he drags Danny along as he merely falls onto the bed. They race to strip each other for the rest of their clothes in a mess of curses and half-choked laughs from the both of them, who cares about stab wounds, and they only slow down the second it is nothing but skin against skin.  
Warm skin, coarse hair, rapid breaths, hard muscles moving... It's intoxicating.

Shoving Danny to lie on his back, Steve moves to hover over him and smirks.  
Danny rolls his eyes. But then Steve leans down and starts on what feels like the beginning of a new hickey on his neck. He quickly gives Steve's neck a sharp slap to make the man look at him, which he does with the most offended facial expression ever, but Danny merely points towards the nightstand.  
“If we're doing this, top drawer.”

Opening it, Steve grins widely at what he sees and grabs what is needed to slick the way. “You've thought ahead.” Good, because he has no intention of hurting Danny.  
Danny ignores him, has his lecturing face on, determined to instruct him before he is too distracted by Steve's naked body against his, and says; “So, this is what you're gonna do...”  
Steve snorts a laugh, charmed by how incredibly 'Danny' Danny is in every situation. “Relax, Danny. I know what I'm doing.”

“Relax? Are you serious? Considering how you tend to rush into things and that it is my ass on the line, quite literally, forgive me if I do NOT relax.” Then Danny frowns. “Besides, I thought you said you hadn't done this before?”  
Steve smiles a little, his devious smile, the smug one he uses when he thinks he's been clever. “I said; I've never done this with a guy before. I never claimed my ass hasn't been played with.”  
Danny opens and closes his mouth as he tries to make sense of those words while his body tries to tell him to shut the hell up and focus on the carnal stuff. Finally there is but one conclusion and Danny can't really make himself believe it. “What? You and some girlfriend would...? Catherine?!”

Steve merely puts on that smile of his again, shrugging. “A gentleman never kisses and tells, Danny.”  
Danny barks out a laugh. “**You** are a lot of things, most of them include some kind of medical diagnosis, but you are no gentleman, Steve McGarret.”  
Steve's grin widens. “Good. That means I get to kiss you and talk about it.” And proceeds to start kissing him, despite the muffled objections that soon turns into other sounds as he starts getting down to business.

Danny squirms over on his stomach when he decides Steve has teased him enough, wanting this over with. Danny's not nervous, not really, he's just a little rationally concerned, which is to be expected when you're doing something for the first time, something you don't even know if you will like, but he trusts Steve and merely clutches his pillow hard and tries to keep his body relaxed.  
Seconds later, that's Steve inside him. In-freaking-side him.  
The stretch and the burn isn't entirely unexpected, but that doesn't make it any more pleasant, even if it can't be compared to the discomfort of being shot. There is a jumbled mess of thoughts inside Danny's head, ranging from; _-Okay, that's weird-_ to _-I can do this.-_ to _-Yeah, no, can't do this.-_   
But then Steve moves, exhales a shaky groan, and Danny can feel Steve's well-trained body give this helpless, involuntary shudder of delight against his back, and he just can't make himself deny Steve this.  
Danny will do this. For Steve. He closes his eyes and wills his body to relax again.

Steve is momentarily stunned by just 'how' good Danny feels, but he can also feel the tension in Danny's muscles. That won't do. He slides a trembling hand down Danny's side in a soothing gesture before he takes a hold of Danny's hip and shows him how to meet him when he starts moving.  
It's just a matter of finding the right angle and Danny would see why Steve would order this from the menu. If he can just do this right, Danny will definitely understand.

Danny follows Steve's instructions, trying to focus on that, and it doesn't feel too bad now. He doesn't understand what the big deal is, but it feels... okay. As long as Danny stays relaxed, allows Steve's hands to support him, yeah, it feels okay.  
He can definitely do this. Even if it slightly annoying at how Steve keeps shifting, keeps adjusting Danny and seems never pleased with the result.  
Then, the next time Steve moves, something happens and Danny's entire body jolts as if he gets zapped by electricity. He even fails to hold back a brief, startled sound. Oh. Oh God. That... that had to be what they were yammering on about in... his research. And there it is again. It's sharp, almost overwhelming, but... Not bad. Definitely not bad. Yeah, things were starting to make a little more sense now.

“Danny...?” Steve asks, hesitating.

“I'm good.” Danny manages to grit out in an effort to sound dignified and unfazed instead of hungry for more. “It's allllll good here.” He even manages a shaky laugh. “Carry on, soldier.”  
When Steve moves again, it feels different, so Danny frowns and hangs his head low. It does feel good, there is a faint hint of... whatever that had been, but it would probably be better if... Danny tilts his hips a little and there it is. Raw pleasure hits him like a punch.  
Danny closes his eyes hard and chokes on a groan. Hell yeah. His fingers dig into the sheets and grabs a tight hold, bracing himself to keep that position to keep getting more of that.

Steve continues to move. He savors every hard-won groan. This is so good. This is so amazing. This is everything Steve has ever wanted and still, to his frustration, it's not enough for some reason.  
Suddenly Steve realizes; he wants to see his face. He needs to see Danny's face, dammit. He has to see those blue eyes, craves the unconditional love there, aching for it to calm the desperation inside him. Steve has been adrift for most of his life, but not anymore, not after he found a second home and a new family. He just needs to look into those blue eyes to remind himself that it is real...

Danny is lost in the promise of a climax destined to be mind-blowing. It is now building up inside him. His muscles tightens up -His body slowly curling in on itself as if trying to defend itself from what is bound to be overwhelming as hell- and his skin goes from slightly damp to sweat-sleek, his eyes are shut tight and his mouth slack with panting breaths, when Steve, that horrid horrid man, just stops! He even pulls away and Danny automatically reaches back for him. “Whoa, whoa, wait, what? Get back here. What...?”  
“Over.” Steve's hands pulls at Danny, makes him move over to lie on his back instead, then the hands return to Danny's hips, lifts him and Steve slides back into the heat with a satisfied groan and doesn't hesitate to start thrusting again. “I want to see that pretty face of yours.”  
Danny is about to fire back a snarky reply, but then his body jerks with almost harsh delight when Steve has clearly has found the perfect angle like this. It is almost _too_ good now.

Struggling to keep from making any groans or whimpers, struggling to seem in control, Danny can feel his facade cracking. Especially with Steve's intense gaze looking at him like he's the most amazing thing he's ever seen.  
It's too much. It's just too much!  
Danny closes his eyes and turns his face away.  
He does not expect Steve to take a gentle hold of his chin and carefully turn his face back to his. Danny's eyes open without conscious thought and he finds himself looking straight into Steve's eyes.  
He can't look away and neither can Steve.

Even as the pleasure keeps building towards a powerful climax, as his body moves and twitches, Danny can't look away. It's like he's hypnotized. They both are.  
They breathe, move, and fingers dig desperately for a grip on skin in an effort to ground themselves.

Steve is the one to break first. This is just too perfect. Danny is too perfect. Steve's movements eventually becomes erratic, beyond his control, and finally he ducks his head down to hide his face to Danny's neck when it hits him. An intense wave of almost painful pleasure hits him right in the gut. Sweet agony. One that takes away all his fears and worries and replaces them with white light and euphoria. He can't think, doesn't want to, doesn't care, he just wants this to go on forever.

Steve's brain is still fizzling with pleasure as he slowly returns to his senses and breathlessly withdraws, smiles a little at Danny's faint groan of objection.  
-Don't worry, Steve wants to say, would have said if he had been able to speak, -I got you, babe.  
He slides down Danny's body until he can put his mouth to better use than talking.

Danny's strangled moan and the way his body arches is hotter than any porn Steve has ever seen. They could probably film this and make a fortune, but the mere idea of sharing Danny or letting anyone else see him like this; it makes Steve want to kill someone.  
It also makes him work Danny hard, without mercy, aiming to push him into a release as good as the one he just had.  
A blow job is something Steve has only been at the receiving end of, but he's too determined to feel nervous. He knows what feels good, he's a guy after all, so he rushes in and doesn't really think much about anything other than he wants to ruin Danny completely and utterly for anyone not Steve McGarret.

Steve's mouth is hot and greedy and amazing. Danny wishes he could savor it, make it last, but that isn't happening. Not now.  
With Steve working him with the intense focus he usually spends on trying to get himself killed, combined with how close he already is, Danny knows it won't take long.  
It's all Steve's fault.  
Which is when Danny comes. Hard. He forgets all about manners and consideration, can't get a warning out, goes supernova, comes so hard his hips jerks up from the bed and there is nothing in the entire world but this and Steve and feeling so good he can reach up and touch the sky and the stars and...

He's pretty certain he blanks out for a moment because he suddenly feels a light kiss to his hip and hears Steve's all too smug voice saying; “Breathe, Danno.”  
Oh. Right. Yeah.  
Danny gulps down some air. He's shivering. “Shut up. I'm having a moment.”  
Steve slithers up to lie next to him, smiling, gently stroking comforting touches over his skin. “Okay.” He still sounds far too confident, but there is also a softness to his voice that persuades Danny to let him live. That, and the fact that this was probably, no, definitely, some of the best sex Danny's ever had and it would be a shame not to explore more. (He can't tell Steve it was the best. His ego would grow beyond control.)

While they cool down and catch their breaths, Steve constantly graces Danny's skin with featherlight fingertips and brushes of his lips. He keeps waiting for Danny to order him to leave, reminding him that they have work tomorrow, and end this too-good-to-be-true scenario. He tries to exploit every second of this before he has to give it up and go home, alone.  
Two minutes later, the moment indeed shatters when Danny orders him out of bed. Steve isn't surprised, but he moves with lazy reluctance.

However, when they have cleaned up and Danny crawls back into bed, he sends Steve an annoyed glare when he finds him looking for his pants and says; “You coming back into bed or you planning on sleeping standing up, fully clothed? Is that something you learned in the Navy? Or is it just a part of your particular insanity? Sleeping on your feet like some animal? Then again, I have seen you sleep lying down, so, what? You got places to be?”

Steve is back in the bed within a heartbeat.   
It feels good; being allowed here, having Danny next to him, their bodies lazy and relaxed now. It should be enough for Steve to be able to sleep. It should. It's more than he dared to hope for tonight. But... he lies staring at Danny's back (Danny is curled up on his side as usual.) and **still** craves something.  
He can't ask, though, not for this, he's already been given so much, but he does inch a little closer, hoping that will be enough to soothe his craving.  
It's not.

Danny feels him staring and resigns himself to his fate. “Alright.”  
“What?” Steve asks.  
“Alright, do it.” Danny mumbles.

Steve hesitates, about to pretend ignorance, but then decides he doesn't want to risk Danny changing his mind, so he goes for it.

Danny sighs as Steve's arms goes around him and pulls him back against him; into his embrace. For a moment the man squeezes him possessively, hard enough for Danny to grunt an objection, but then Steve eases up, just so Danny can breathe but not enough for him escape, and curls up to him as if he just can't get enough skin-to-skin contact with nothing but their underwear separating them.  
Danny, knowing Steve can't see it, smiles. Despite Steve's obvious fear, Danny's not planning on going anywhere. Even though Danny would like some goddamn room to sprawl, he lets the man hold him captive this one time.

-

It's still in the middle of the night when Danny wakes up. He had left the bedroom window open and now the sound of the rain pouring down outside is annoying and prevents him from falling back too sleep. Danny tries to free himself and soon has a moment when he wonders if he has to get physically violent to make Steve release him. Luckily the SEAL (Who usually wakes up if a fly farts in the room yet now appears dead to the world.) senses danger and lets him go just in time.  
Danny walks over, closes the window and turns around intending to crawl back into bed. He ends up hesitating.

Steve is asleep on his stomach, arms curled around his pillow as if he needed a substitute now that he didn't have Danny to latch on to, and Danny allows himself a moment to admire the sight.  
The sheets are down by Steve's lower back and the dim lights caresses every dip of the man's muscles. He really is such a finely tuned machine. The tattoos on his upper arms are barely visible in the semi-dark and suddenly Danny is itching to touch them. That's allowed now, right? They've already crossed the line, who is to judge him for indulging a little?  
Steve's face is turned away from Danny, his dark hair is as chaotic as the man himself, and the amount of trust in that position is _breath-taking_. He knows how paranoid the idiot is.

Danny places one knee on the bed and slowly crawls back in, moving over to place a lingering kiss on Steve's shoulder.  
It makes the other man exhale a faint sound of approval into the pillow.  
Danny smiles.  
He places another kiss on the tempting skin between Steve's neck and shoulder, before kissing the neck itself. He's fairly certain the way it makes Steve arch his neck to offer up more skin is more an instinctive reaction than a conscious choice.

Danny allows his hands to join in. He places them on Steve's back and slides them up the warm skin, finds and briefly trails the tattoos, before inching even closer, now lying halfway on top of him, mapping out every sensitive spot on Steve's neck with his lips.  
Steve counters with small sounds of appreciation and with increasingly more restless squirming.

Steve is awake now, even if it still feels like he's dreaming the best dream ever.  
Eventually he tries to reach back and get a hold of Danny, but Danny distracts him by shifting his sneaky left hand to Steve's chest, now open for attack as his body twists a little up from the mattress in the effort of reaching. It definitely does the job of making him forget what he was aiming for.  
Especially when Danny's hand goes lower.

Steve does his very best to suffocate a shivering groan into the pillow while angling his body enough to give Danny access.  
He can actually hear the smile in Danny's voice when he drawls against Steve's neck; “I do believe it is my turn?”  
Steve grunts, impatient. “Less talking. More fucking.” God, they have so much catching up to do. They should probably just call in sick for the rest of the week. Possibly the month. Would a year be overly ambitious?

“You're always rushing into things, babe.” Danny murmurs, closing his hand around the part of Steve that is, yeah, definitely awake and rising to the occasion. “Maybe the Navy taught you to storm into any situation, but that's not how Danny Williams does things. You know that.”  
“What I know is that if you're going to continue talking like this -You really love the sound of your own voice, don't you?- then I'm going to fall back to sleep.”  
“Is that so?”

Steve is anything but pleased when Danny abruptly withdraws his hand. “Hey!” He starts to push himself up to inform Danny that no one had said anything about stopping but finds himself shoved back down again by a firm hand between his shoulder blades.  
It causes equal amounts of annoyed confusion and unexpected arousal to Steve   
It really doesn't make sense for him to react like this. He's never liked being restrained. Not being in control always makes him uneasy. Yet... This feels different.  
_-Of course it feels different. This is Danny.-_ Steve's brain chides him gently.  
He doesn't try to push himself back up again.

“Good boy.” Danny says, feeling dangerously smug.  
“Shut up.”  
Laughing quietly, Danny merely reaches out and grabs a hold of what his research couldn't underline enough the importance of; lube. “Fine. Then you talk.” He reaches down and takes a teasing grip of Steve's ass before pulling off the underwear. “Tell me how to do this. I mean, you clearly know what you like during... this.”

Steve grins like a predator. And Steve tells him. 

Later, a part of Danny is shocked that he's doing this to his best friend, but he also finds himself turned on beyond belief when he sees the effect his fingers have when they find their target.  
Danny hungrily watches the muscles in Steve's back and shoulders dance when the man squirms, when he clutches the pillow hard with a strangled moan, when he rolls his hips helplessly to, unable not to, grind himself against the mattress.

Steve is half-delirious by the time he decides that those fingers, as talented as they are, isn't enough. Like before, he still wants more. When it comes to Danny, Steve suspects he will always be greedy.  
“Danny...” He pants. “Danny, come on...” How long has the sadist been tormenting him? A small eternity? Instead of hours, it feels like Steve hasn't come in years.  
“Yeah, okay...” Danny replies, and there is a comfort in hearing his voice is equally wrecked as Steve feels. And moments after that, he is blessed with the heat of Danny's body sliding up on top of his, feels the weight of him, and Steve doesn't whimper. He doesn't. But it's close.  
The stretch and burn of Danny pushing into him is a definite difference from his fingers, oh yes, and he's starting to understand why Danny had tensed up as much as he had when the roles had been reversed. But Steve also strongly suspects it is only a temporary discomfort.  
He clenches his jaw, pushes against it, focuses on Danny's hands petting his flanks in a clumsy effort at soothing him and the strangled groan he feels against his neck.

Danny can feel Steve struggling to stay relaxed and it enables him to stay anchored through the insane pleasure the act sends flooding through him and the urge to do exactly what Steve had ordered earlier; more fucking.  
No, Danny is going to do this right. Steve had reduced Danny to a shivering mess, now he is going to return the favor, dammit. There is no way Steve is going to be better in bed than him.

Steve soon congratulates himself on being right, again, as it doesn't take long before it feels good.  
Really good. Danny is doing all the right things. A quick learner, obviously.  
It's just that... Danny is also taking his sweet time, moving with lazy ease, stroking his hands over Steve's sweaty skin and showing no sign of picking up the pace. This while Steve is so close to coming his dick is probably going to kill him if he doesn't get off in the next minute.

Spreading his legs wider in what he hopes will be a fairly obvious invitation for Danny to let go of that rigid control, Steve grits his teeth in frustration when it goes ignored. He eventually tries to push back harder against Danny, tightens around him, and it makes him moan and ruins his rhythm for a moment, but he doesn't go any rougher. Growled orders for Danny to **come on!** are also firmly ignored.   
Another effort to push himself up is sabotaged by a firm grip around his wrists and his hands being maneuvered above Steve's head and held down against the mattress.  
Usually Steve would have height and weight on his side, but like this; Danny has him pinned and he isn't giving up an inch of that control. Dammit, why is that so hot? It makes no sense! Steve should hate this, not be even more turned on. But he is. Sweet mercy, he is. And he would rather die a horrible death than admit it.  
He suspects Danny already knows, though, because Steve's body submits so eagerly to his control despite how it refuses to do so in any other situation.

The torture continues. The never ending sweet slide of so-good-but-just-not-enough.  
When Danny finally reaches down, urges Steve to angle his body a little and wraps his fingers around him, it doesn't take much before euphoria floods Steve's brain with delirious delight and his body with a glorious release that leaves him mute and yet open-mouthed with the intensity of it all.

Danny jolts as Steve clamps down on him when he comes. He is cheated out of watching and listening to Steve fall apart because Danny can only shudder through his own climax provoked by that sensation. He can feel the air rushing out of his lungs along with the death of every braincell in his mind. It is absolutely addictive! And leaves him exhausted when it finally fades.  
Steve doesn't complain about being squashed into the mattress as Danny collapses, merely lets out a light huff and frees his wrists. Danny is absently grateful for it as it means he can just stay there and reboot his brain.

It takes a long while before either of them are capable of moving.

Danny carefully pulls away before flopping over on his back next to Steve, still catching his breath, and stares up at the ceiling with a faint grin. “Wow...” He eventually says.  
Steve grunts his agreement.  
“I mean,” Danny says, “that was pretty much... wow.”  
Steve grunts his agreement again.  
Exhaling a dazed grin, Danny absently reaches up and smooths back his blond hair with his hand. “I mean, even you got to admit that was pretty damn amazing.”  
Steve merely makes something similar to a grunt yet again.

Deciding to interpret that as Steve having trouble acknowledging Danny's superior sexing skills, Danny's grin widens and he has a moment of near unbearable smugness.  
Until he realizes that Steve isn't basking in Danny's competence at all. No, Danny realizes, as he looks over at his partner and hears how deep and even his breath is; the dimwit is **asleep**!  
“Hey!” Danny reaches out and slaps Steve's shoulder. Hard. “We're not sleeping in this mess.”

Steve starts awake, lifts his head to scout for danger, concludes that the world is not ending, and sinks back down with every intent of falling asleep again. “Five more minutes...”

“Five more...?” Danny can't believe what he's hearing. He hasn't been fed that line since Grace was about ten years old! “You wake up this instant, Steve. You hear me? Steve? STEVE!”

_Epilogue:_

Danny awkwardly stumbles through a thoroughly planned explanation on the phone to his beloved daughter, about the change in his and Steve's status from friends to boyfriends, but Grace barely reacts and merely states, sounding far older and more cynical than Danny likes, that it is: “About time. Really. I mean, really.”  
Even Danny's glare can't stop Steve from laughing at her words.  
Charlie, on the other hand, ponders the new information for a little while, then asks if this means that Steve can help him with his projects, because 'some' dads took it far too seriously.  
Steve actually tries not to laugh this time. He fails.

As for work and telling their coworkers, here Danny barely gets to start on his explanation before they all start talking very loudly amongst themselves and money starts changing hands.  
Danny stares at them with judgment and disbelief.  
Steve demands half of the winnings, but in vain.

Late that evening, they sit in the chairs in Steve's backyard, looking out at the ocean, drinking cold beers and listening to the waves.   
The love between them has been there for a long time. Their relationship is built on years of friendship, trust and carguments, and maybe that's what makes this new level to their partnership feel so natural. They have not turned into something new, they merely added more to what was already there.  
A house on top of the foundation.  
Maybe it was always meant to be, the two of them, bickering one second, touching with unabashed affection the next, the kind of logic that only makes sense to them.

“Why can't **you** tell her?”  
“I'm not telling your mother, Steve. Put on your big boy SEAL pants and call her tomorrow.”  
“Does she have to know?”  
“I had to suffer through my mother's questions. We're invited to Thanksgiving dinner, where there will be more questions.” Danny takes a sip from his beer. “You're telling your mother.”  
Steve makes a face. “Sadist.”  
“Lunatic.”  
“I love you.”  
“I love you too. Another beer?”  
“Sure.”

And they watch in lazy and comfortable silence as the waves continue their eternal dance.

**Author's Note:**

> I have absolutely NO excuse for this. This is pure self-indulgent trash.  



End file.
